


semantics

by overthelove26



Category: GOT7
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-06-16 22:11:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15446964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overthelove26/pseuds/overthelove26
Summary: In which an Ilvermorny student transfers into Hogwarts and changes all the rules they’ve set for themselves, even the adamant beliefs of a young Slytherin’s heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published on this site *yikes* so I'm a bit nervous. I tried to keep as canon as possible with details such as who's in whose classes, personalities, etc. but if need be, I changed some things consciously. All you need to know for this is Hogwarts is set in South Korea and everything else will be explained as the story progresses. Happy reading ^-^

_Books? Check._

_Robes? Check._

_Quills and inks in assorted colors? Check._

_Wand? Check._

_Spare galleons for the trolley witch?_ Jinyoung pats down the front pocket of his jeans and grimaces. _Guess I'll nag Jaebum hyung again. He won’t mind. He loves me._

 

“Jinyoung, hurry up! We’re leaving now!” his mother bellows up the stairwell to his second-floor bedroom.

 

“The world doesn't stop for your neurotic tendencies!” his younger sister adds with an impatient groan. Jinyoung rolls his eyes and runs through his mental packing list once more. He’s only ever this obsessive once a year _thank you very much_ , and it always pays off in the end. Boyoung, his sister, always owls home the second day of term because she forgot something or another at home. Jinyoung never makes that mistake when using his extensive essential checklist on top of his school supply list. It’s not that neurotic. It’s just...necessary. He swears.

 

With a small sigh, he takes a moment to access his outfit in the mirror. His eyes rake down his body and he even does a small turn to see it from the back. The 100 squat challenge his sister dared him to do over the summer _definitely_ paid off. Even if he hated his sore thighs the first few days. He does another quick twirl and grins at the results. With a narcissistic smirk, he thinks, _damn, Kunpimook’s getting to me already._

 

“Jinyoung-ah!”

 

“I’m coming! _Jeez_ ,” he mutters to himself, rushing down the steps with luggage in both hands. His mother and Boyoung stand by the doorway of their home with annoyed frowns pinching at their mouths.

 

His sister snarks, “Took you long enough.”

 

“Shut it,” he huffs in response, too tired to think of a better insult. Who can blame him? It's 9 o'clock in the morning and his internal clock has not quite adjusted yet.

 

“Kids! No fighting, I have a migraine already,” their mother chides with a click of her tongue. This silences the both of them, but they don't fail to glower at each other when she turns her back.

 

The drive to King’s Cross Station seems short without the Park siblings bickering back and forth, but that's only because their mother strategically put Jinyoung at the wheel who claims he “ _can't concentrate when Boyoung opens her yapper.”_ His owl’s cage occupies the passenger seat beside him, and if he strains his ears, he can detect the faintest flaps of his barn owl’s wings above the vehicle. He’s like him in most ways, but Prince, his owl, hates being cooped up in small, claustrophobic places, so he opts to fly alongside the car to the station every year. Occasionally, he swoops in for a small snack or to rest on the upholstery, but never long enough for any of the Parks to notice.

 

The radio is quiet enough that his sister’s annoying habit of tapping her foot can be heard, but loud enough so she can’t hear Jinyoung muttering threats under his breath. But she knows, in that way siblings _always_ know when one is being snide with the other. Hence the perpetual glare burning into Jinyoung’s side whenever he flicks his eyes to the rearview mirror in order to check on them. He ignores it for the most part. Others, he sends her back a scowl to match her own.

 

When the car pulls up to the final red light, he locks gazes momentarily with Boyoung, but all he sees is concern. He frowns in confusion, before realizing when she side eyes the other passenger. His eyes mimic hers.

 

“Quit giving each other that look, I'll be fine,” the reason for their worry snaps from the seat next to Boyoung. Their attention latches onto their mother and both siblings start talking simultaneously.

 

“Mom, we can call you a cab—”

 

“You really don't have to send us off—”

 

“Nonsense!” she exclaims with the flick of her wrist. “Imagine what the others would think. I cannot have that on this family,” she shakes her head adamantly as if that was the biggest thing troubling them. (Oh, how they _wish_ it was.) “No, I will drop you off just as I always have at Platform 9 ¾, and that's final.”

 

“But Mom—”

 

“The doctor—”

 

 _“And that's final.”_ They both know how stubborn she gets–they inherited it for Pete’s sake–so they let it go with lingering looks and heavy hearts.

 

Jinyoung drums his fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation as the seconds count down for pedestrians to cross. He isn't the biggest fan of driving; he much prefers traveling by Floo powder or even broomstick if he was feeling daring, but his mother insisted all of her children get their licenses and adapt to the Muggle world. It's all the waiting and stopping and accelerating that puts him on edge more than usual. But then again, it could have less to do with driving and more with...yeah. It definitely is that.

 

The high pitched honk of the driver behind him snaps him back to the present. While in his thoughts, his reaction to the green light was delayed, making him late in pressing on the accelerator.

 

“Fuck off! If you don’t shut off that goddamn horn _right now_ , I’ll give you a piece of this!” Boyoung half lunges out of the open window and flips the driver off. Jinyoung doesn't even know when she rolled it down nor when she learned such choice words. He swears it wasn't him. Really. But he doesn’t blame her. He was there for maybe a second before they started honking. (Yet another reason it was better than Jinyoung was driving. If it were Boyoung, she would have gotten out of the car and _really_ given them something to remember. Jinyoung has the scars to prove it.)

 

He ducks his head out his own window to see a car full of guys around his age talking animatedly with each other, before looking briefly to his mother, who had raised the collar around her neck in embarrassment. He's tempted to wait longer in front of the green light to spite them, but his mother pleads silently through her eyes and Jinyoung drives forward.


	2. Chapter 2

“Did you see that girl? I mean, did you  _ see _ that girl?”

 

“Enunciating one part of a sentence doesn't change its meaning, Jacks,” Mark murmurs from the passenger seat at the same time Yugyeom replies in the back, “Of course we did. We have eyes, don't we?” and Youngjae gripes, “ _ Why  _ did you have to honk? I was sleeping, hoe!”

 

Jackson glares at them before continuing. “She was hot as fuck, man. Like  _ damn _ . I think I jizzed a little in my pants.” 

 

Mark sends the driver a look of disgust. “Gross, dude.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, you used to love hearing when cummed. ‘ _ Cum for me, Jia er,’  _ ” Jackson breathily imitates his best ‘Mark hot and bothered’ voice as Youngjae kicks his chair from behind. 

 

“T.M.I.! T.M.I.!” he screeches with eyes wide as saucers.  _ Ah, the innocence, how precious,  _ Mark can’t help but think when he glances at the boy. 

 

Jackson yelps, clutching his left ear with one hand. “Yah! Choi Youngjae! Unless you want me to go deaf and get us into an accident, no screaming in this car!” The younger boy rolls his eyes, ready to go off on a rant on “ _ why my volume is not a problem you're the problem thank you for coming to my Ted talk,” _ but Yugyeom saves them from going through that again by asking, “But Jackson, aren't you gay?”

 

“You're one to talk,” Jackson sticks his tongue out, “and yes, you are correct, but just because I'm not ordering, doesn't mean I can't look at the menu.”

 

The rest of the passengers collectively rolls their eyes and stays silent until Youngjae voices, “So is that car going to move or what?” 

 

Mark looks up from the game on his phone to the same car still sitting idly in front of the green light and shrugs nonchalantly to mask his uneasiness. He wishes the car never moves and they'll all miss the train and he won't be forced to go to a new school in a new house with new people. But he knows it's all wishful thinking and at worst Jackson will just owl someone to inform of their late arrival. Then Mark will have to stand in front of a busy room where everyone will see him be sorted into said new house. He suddenly prays for the car to explode and/or move out of their way. He can't miss that train. 

 

“Can't we just spell them away?” Yugyeom offers annoyedly, breaking him from his concentration. Mark chuckles. Yugyeom has patience of a child, hence he’s always put at the back of the car even after getting his permit (the guys wonder how he manage that feat. Jackson and Youngjae suspect bribery. Mark doesn't care so long as he’s never in a car with Yugyeom driving). He’s also itching to use magic again, but being under 17, he would get in trouble with the Ministry.

 

“Nah, just them be petty,” Jackson says, still squinting at the vehicle. 

 

“You just want to see that girl again,” Youngjae sasses with an out of place smirk. 

 

“Hey! Who taught you to talk back to your hyungs? That JB kid is really no good,” Jackson fires back with a triumphant smile when he sees Youngjae blush in the rearview mirror. 

 

“First of all, his name is Jaebum. Second, he's older than you, so don’t let him catch you calling him ‘kid.’ And third, I didn't need to learn it from him when I hang out with this one,” he juts a thumb out to the youngest beside him.

 

They silence themselves, waiting for a retort, but Yugyeom only shrugs and replies, “He's not wrong.” The others accept this answer with a shared  _ What did we expect?  _ look and return their gazes to the front to see the car sputtering across the road. 

 

“Finally!” Youngjae hollers in exasperation. (Mark thinks he’s being vaguely dramatic. It had only been thirty seconds at worst. But he doesn’t say anything.) “I thought I'd miss my first train. Hey, have you guys heard that story about two second years missing the train and taking a  _ flying _ Ford Anglia-”

 

“Shush, Jae! I have to get through security,” Jackson scolds, before rolling down his window in front of the booth of the parking garage. He shoots the guard a dazzling smile. 

 

“License and registration, please,” she requests, nonplussed. With a small pout, Jackson fishes them from his wallet and hands them to her. Mark sees his hand anxiously clutch his hidden wand as Jackson studies her face for any alarm. 

 

The guard looks up and returns them, “How long will you be staying?”

 

“2 hours. Maybe more, if you're available,” he winks confidently. Mark bites his lip to conceal his laughter. 

 

“Second floor Section B is empty,” she states after conferring with the computer. “That'll be 12,000 won.”

 

Jackson passes the money and she hands him a ticket. “Keep this on your person and show them to the guard in front upon entering. Please pass forward,” she instructs with an almost bored tone. He nods and drives on, where the rest of the car erupts into raucous laughter. 

 

“She—oh my god I can't breathe—” 

 

“Did she really just—what an icon—”

 

“Holy shit holy shit holy  _ shit _ oh my fuck—”

 

“Can you guys just shut up? The train comes in 10,” Jackson grouches, slamming on the brakes. They all lurch forward, but are saved by their seat belts. This still doesn't stop their intense giggling, so Jackson shuts off the engine and exits the car without them. Mark is the first to recover, feeling the after effects of laughing too much, so he flicks the other boys in the foreheads. 

 

“Don’t want to be late,” he says with a forced smile before exiting the car himself. Jackson is already packing the 4 carts and Mark helps separate each other’s belongings. It's easy to tell whose stuff is whose. Youngjae has the most bags, due to his indecisive nature and decision to ultimately take  _ everything _ . Jackson is a close second with his multiple duffles containing gifts from around the world for his surplus of friends. Mark and Yugyeom tie with the same amount of suitcases, because Mark is a minimalist and the other goes home for every holiday and brings all his things then. 

 

Once they are all loaded and the remaining boys exit the car, Jackson grins hopefully at Mark. After a few seconds pass and his grin doesn't waver, Mark heaves a sigh, tossing him the remote stored in his pocket for safe keeping. 

 

“Just do it already, I know you want to.” The Chinese boy squeals in excitement as the Koreans watch on with confusion. That is, until Jackson presses a code into the device and the vehicle in front of them shrinks into a toy-sized car keychain with a small  _ clink _ ! Mark swipes it up from the floor and drops it into his pocket, looking up to see them all gaping in astonishment. 

 

“It gets me every time,” Jackson admits to the others with a giddy grin on his face. 

 

Mark rolls his eyes in faint amusement. “Which is why I don’t let you hold onto the keys because you'd shrink and expand it with us inside.”

 

“You can do that?” Yugyeom’s eyes widen. 

 

“It's dangerous and calls for a shit ton of healing spells, but it's helluva adventure in the seconds before your bones are being crushed.”

 

“Let’s not do that,” Youngjae says immediately, fear in his eyes. 

 

“He's just joking,” Jackson throws an arm around the younger, “at least I think he is.” Youngjae smacks his chest. 

 

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Yugyeom announces, hands clapping together, “we should go or we'll miss the train.” Mark's stomach churns in response. The discomfort must be evident on his face because the youngest sidles next to him with his cart. 

 

“You okay, Mark-hyung?”

 

He manages a weak grin. In the amount of time that he’s gotten to know Yugyeom (aka less than a month), Mark knew he preferred subtle acts of kindness as opposed to being straightforward about it like he himself did, so the fact that Yugyeom’s asking like this makes Mark feel equally grateful and embarrassed for looking so evidently anxious. “A little nervous, I guess,” he admits quietly. Yugyeom ruffles his hair and throws an arm around his shoulder. It’s only now that Mark realizes how tall he was despite being 2 years younger. He isn’t amused.

 

“Don’t be worried, hyung. Hogwarts isn't so bad once you make some friends. And you already have the three of us,” he gestures to himself and the other two boys laughing with each other as they reenact their first times crossing onto the platform. Maybe it's his reassuring smile or the way they all looked so happy when speaking of their times at school during the drive over, but for the first time today, Mark’s smile comes easy. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the sorting done in the houses are by my observations and/or for the sake of the story, but feel free to say why you believe someone belongs in another house.

Jinyoung doesn’t see the logic in a public Sorting ceremony. Sure, house pride and all the jazz, but waiting nearly an hour to watch a two hundred 11-year-olds sit on a chair and have a musty old hat placed on their heads (don’t tell the Sorting Hat he said that...he’s an idol) isn’t the best use of anyone’s time. (And don’t even get him started on near and legitimate Hat Stalls; Jinyoung remembers a distinctly tall Korean boy during his second year at Hogwarts who sat for almost fifteen minutes before the Hat declared him a Hufflepuff.  _ Everyone  _ cheered because they could finally carry on with the rest of the ceremony. Jinyoung cheered because he was one kid closer to the feast). Because that's all he saw them as: nuisances who prevent a chicken leg from entering his mouth. But he keeps his feelings to himself because he doesn't want to give people any more reason to believe that “ _ all Slytherins are evil _ .” Even though that thought  _ has  _ crossed his mind whenever he enters their common room in the dungeon. Maybe it's the fluorescent lighting getting to him. 

 

So when he sees Headmaster Park Jinyoung (does he hate that they share the same name? Yes. Does he get shit for it? No, because he's a Slytherin and God knows what happens if someone did) stands at the front of the room before the ceremony, Jinyoung feels his feast slowly slip away. 

 

His worst suspicions are confirmed when the words _ “Now accepting transfers from other wizarding schools” _ leave the headmaster’s lips and he internally bemoans the fresh pumpkin pasties going cold (this is unrealistic and irrational on his part. None of the food goes the slightest bit bad under the house elves’ spell. He read about it in his second year following the aforementioned Hat Stall).

 

“Try not to look too disgusted,” a familiar voice muses beside him. Jinyoung looks up to see his best friend, Im Jaebum, settle down onto the bench, dressed in his silver and green robes. 

 

“But, hyung, this is my food on the line. How _dare_ they delay it,” Jinyoung pouts and Jaebum rolls his eyes. “And where were you on the train? I had to sit with Kyungsoo and his boyfriend, Jongin, whom I _refuse_ to call ‘Kai’ because that’s just unethical.”

 

Jaebum snorts. “Oh no, Jinyoung, you were forced to be social. What a terrible time for you.” When the younger boy glares at him, he raises his hands in defense. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I was in Youngjae’s compartment.”

 

Jinyoung makes a face. “Is that what people these days call having sex? Because if it is, it's poorly executed.” Jaebum punches his shoulder.

 

“No, perv, I mean I was  _ actually  _ in his compartment with his friends,” Jaebum clamps a hand over Jinyoung's mouth before he can say anything, “And  _ no _ , that is not a euphemism for a fivesome.” Jinyoung snickers beneath his hand, eyes gleaming in a way that lets Jaebum know that that was  _ exactly  _ the way his mind was going. He releases his hand and wipes his palm on his robes. 

 

“I don’t have germs, y’know.”

 

“Actually I don’t know because you thought just a second ago that ‘in his compartment’ meant fucking so I really can't trust you.” Jaebum looks around. “Where’s Bam?”

 

Jinyoung dismisses him with the wave of his hand. “Semantics. And Kunpimook hit the dorms when the thestrals dropped him off. His flight over was delayed and he couldn’t get any sleep on the train.   _ Anyway,  _ what were you doing with Youngjae that warranted being away from your _best friend_ whom you’ve sat with for the past  _ 6 years _ ,” he sends a pointed look at him that has the older squirming. 

 

“Just meeting some of his friends. He was telling me a story about one of their cars. ‘ _ Something out of Ant-Man, hyung, I swear! It was so wild _ ,’ ” Jaebum imitates the boy’s voice, and Jinyoung grins at the way his best friend’s eyes sparkle with adoration.  _ Whipped,  _ he smirks internally. “They were cool, I think one of them is a transfer.” The final word is enough to get Jinyoung frowning again. 

 

The Great Hall buzzes with excitement until the doors open and all conversation ceases. The taller heads are impossible not to notice amongst the sea of shorter adolescents, but Jinyoung spitefuly pays them no mind. He does, however, scan the faces of the incoming first years for the kids he and his sister promised his mother they would look out for. 

 

_ There were 6 of them. 7? Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu from church, the kids Boyoung babysits, Yerim and Chan, Yukhei and...and...who else? _

 

“Shit,” he swears as the first name gets called, gaining a look from Jaebum. 

 

“Watch your mouth, there are children here,” the older boy chastises. Jinyoung rolls his eyes, thinking about the numerous times Jaebum himself cursed freely in front of anyone under the age of 10. 

 

The Charms professor’s voice drones on in the background as he searches his brain frenziedly for the name of the seventh boy.  He tries to remember when they first met to give him clues.  _ Agh, I can’t think of his face. His Korean wasn’t that good...was he a foreigner? Yeah, I think he spoke English...okay, quick, try to remember how he introduced himself! ‘Hello, I am _ —’

 

“Mark Tuan.”

 

Jinyoung jerks his head up to the front.  _ That’s his name! It’s Mark! Found him _ — _ hold up. Are all 11-year-olds this tall nowadays? What are they feeding them? And wasn’t he Korean? What is this ‘twan’ business? What did he do to my Mark? Did he murder him and steal his identity? Is he here somewhere on the train? Don’t worry, Mark, I’ll save you _ —

 

“That’s the transfer I was talking about.” Jaebum nudges Jinyoung’s arm, gesturing to the boy beneath the Sorting Hat.  _ Oh. _

 

“RAVENCLAW!” the Sorting Hat declares. The table to his right erupts into claps as the older boy strolls over expressionlessly. 

 

“At least he wasn't a Hat Stall,” Jaebum murmurs to him with a smile that reads: " _ Just give him a chance." _

 

Jinyoung turns his nose up. “Almost. Those 30 seconds could have breached into near territory.”

 

The older rolls his eyes. “Even I would have hesitated on that. I was getting major Gryffindor vibes from him in the compartment earlier with his friends.” He shrugs. “Guess he's a claw. Who would have known?”

 

“His old is this guy even anyway? I almost mistook him for this 11-year old that goes to my summer dance club.”

 

Jaebum chuckles. “Turning 18 in a couple of days, believe it or not. The guys wouldn't stop talking about plans for a party but he shut them all down. Something about it being the first week of term.  _ Classic Ravenclaw _ ,” he muses. 

 

“I said almost the exact same thing for my birthday last year.”

 

“I know what I said,” Jaebum smirks, before dodging a kick thrown his way. “Watch it! My mom bought me new robes for my last year, and she'll kill me if they're already ripped.”

 

“Maybe you should have thought of that before I insulting my life and house.”

 

Jaebum's murmur of “ _ It's my house too” _ goes ignored as Mark settles at the Ravenclaw table in full view of Jinyoung. 

 

“Handsome  _ and _ smart,” a seventh-year girl across from Jinyoung remarks dreamily. 

 

Her friend nods, “10 out of 10 would tap that.” A snort.

 

“I’ll do your Divination homework for a week if you can manage that.”

 

“You’re on.” They exchange a quick handshake before returning their attention to the front of the Great Hall. Jinyoung scowls to himself. 

 

“Is integrity not a thing anymore?” he questions quietly to Jaebum. 

 

He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

 

Jinyoung surreptitiously points out the two girls. “They just bet homework if one of them could bang him.” 

 

He hears the amusement in Jaebum’s voice when he replies, “He’s hot. Homework is lame. Sounds like a win to me.”

 

“I'm sure Youngjae would love to hear about this side fling.” Jaebum elbows Jinyoung’s side. 

 

“Don't you dare, Park Jinyoung.”

 

“It was a joke. Calm down, grandpa.”

 

He knows he’s crossed a line when the older boy replies, “Wasn't funny.” Jinyoung doesn't bother him after that, resorting to keep his thoughts to himself and clap quietly as the rest of the Sorting commences. He sends a small smile each to Tzuyu and Yerim, who get sorted into Slytherin and sit next to each other at the front of the table. Yukhei, Chaeyoung, Chan, and the missing kid, who Jinyoung learns to be Mark  _ Lee _ , are sorted into Gryffindor, and Boyoung’s cheers can be heard louder than everyone else’s. Dahyun gets sorted into Hufflepuff, but Jinyoung isn't too worried because she's always been easygoing and sociable. The ceremony ends with a transfer named Seo Youngho who gets sorted into Gryffindor the instant the hat touches his head. Jinyoung stifles a laugh as his sister attentively watches him saunter to the table and take a seat next to her, who then turns her head as if she hadn't been staring at him the entire time. He opens his mouth to tell Jaebum about it, but refrains at the last minute because he's mad at Jinyoung. 

 

Platters of food appear on the table as Headmaster Park finishes his annual speech about “ _ no going into the Forbidden Forest”  _ and to “ _ help each other out _ ” that Jinyoung has heard 5 times.

 

He immediately dives into a plate piled high with golden pumpkin pasties, before pausing and dropping one onto Jaebum’s plate. The older boy is surprised, if the raised eyebrows and mouth shaped as an ‘o’ are any indication. Jinyoung turns back to his own plate, stacking three on top of each other. He stuffs another whole into his mouth and is pleased (but not surprised) to find they are still warm and flaky. A shortrib is placed neatly onto his plate and Jinyoung looks up, mouth still full of buttery crust, but Jaebum is already looking in the other direction. Jinyoung grins to himself and adds more food to his own plate. 

 

They are okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
